


A Star-Filled Union

by ZammyShad



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, KOFTE spoilers, KOTET Spoilers, M/M, Rating will go up, Will be Explicit in Later Chapters, honestly just be caught up to JUS and you'll be fine, marriage fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 19:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17209388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZammyShad/pseuds/ZammyShad
Summary: He reaches for it, stopping short once again as his eyes catch the card, etched font in elegant script dotting its surface and catching his eye.Xarson Zell and Theron Shan invite you to attend a celebration of joining.It’s theirwedding day.





	A Star-Filled Union

If there’s one thing Xarson hates, it’s waking up to a cold, empty bed. There should be a body, he reminds himself, eyes closed and mind still hazed from the last dredges of sleep. Yet as his arm moves out from under the comfort of the blankets piled high around him, sleep-warmed fingers find nothing but the vague imprint of his boyfriend left hours prior.

_Huh._

“Theron,” he croaks, eyes still steadfastly closed in an attempt to ignore the world around him. “Theron, come back to bed.” 

No sound greets him, the seconds ticking away slowly, like the chronometer was suddenly stalled, broken. Xarson’s brows furrow, golden eyes finally opening to stare blearily at the empty bed and, more importantly, the barren, quiet room.

“Theron?” The room feels the same as it always has, yet lacking one of its best features: a sleep-mussed, soft and relaxed and pliant Theron Shan. No bright smile to greet him as the first thing he sees, no warm arms to wrap around him and a gravelly, roughened good morning murmured right before their lips meet, a laugh making its way to his throat as if they had all the time in the world to revel in their personal happiness. 

In a bid to find where exactly his lover had gone off to, the sith slides from the covers, hand sliding through his unkept bangs as he shakes off the vestiges of sleep. Tired, yellow eyes slide towards a small side table as he reaches for his uniform, starkly noticing a white card scattered amongst their belongings. For a moment, Xarson stares, the luxury of no longer being at war muddling his usually hyper aware senses. The card is crisp, clean - obviously kept for importance. It lays innocently against a holo statue, the image of Theron and himself - captured as Odessan fell to dusk, their arms wrapped loosely around each other - flickering between the beat of his heart. The Zabrak smiles, eyes crinkling under the weight of remembrance as he finishes dressing. He reaches for it, stopping short once again as his eyes catch the card, etched font in elegant script dotting its surface and catching his eye.

_Xarson Zell and Theron Shan invite you to attend a celebration of joining._

It’s their _wedding day._

Something settles deep within his chest, excitement and nervousness clashing against each other in waves and causing the marauder to sit heavily atop the bed. His hand holds the invitation delicately, afraid to damage it. One sentence, one seemingly insignificant phrase, and Xarson’s heart feels ready to burst. With all that’s happened in his life - the training, the torture, the sit, stay, come here - he never thought marriage was a possibility. There was always a war going on, the Empire demanding the most from its hound, its Wrath. Time for romance or love didn’t exist when you were shackled and told to bend knee, forced to travel the galaxy and squash rebellions under foot as if he himself were their judge, jury, and executioner.

The reminder causes the brands upon his nape to tingle, sparks of the memory dragging him out of reverence. There isn’t a day that goes by that Xarson doesn’t feel the letters staking his ownership to Vitiate, Valkorion. Yet, despite all the horrors he was forced to endure, the emperor did allow him to meet Theron and, though the story is muddled between right and wrong, he supposes he’s thankful for all that the emperor had done. Valkorion’s betrayal incited the Alliance, granting the sith a new home to finally make his own.

Lana said it best. _He gave you the freedom you always wanted, albeit not in the way any of us were expecting. He was good for something, at the very least._

A shrill beeping fills his ears, the comm unit tossed to the side blaring to life, Lana’s name embellished in blue light. “Speak and she shall hear you,” he laughs, answering the call as he gently places the invitation to the side, casting it one last wistful look.

“Commander,” her voice starts, semi-robotic and mechanized through the comm. “We have a long day ahead of us. Are you ready to begin?”

“Good morning to you too, Lana,” he starts, lips ticking up in a barely-there smirk and watching as Lana playfully mirrors him in turn. “I take it you’ve already begun preparations for Theron and I?”

“Of course, but that can wait for later. For now, we’re having breakfast - Together, Commander. It’s you and Theron’s day as much as it is ours, too. We’re a family, and I’ve planned this gathering as such.”

She softens, then, her own yellowed eyes turning to honey despite the blue tint of the holo. Shoulders relaxed, she smiles genuinely, the lines around her lips more pronounced than ever before. “And I am so proud of you.”

His heart squeezes tightly within chest as voice drops, sweeter and kinder than most ever hear. “Thank you, Lana. For everything. I’ll be up in a moment. Save me a seat?”

“Of course, Commander.” Her persona instantly falls back into place, yet Xarson knows it’s purely instinct at this point. “Be sure to wear something appropriate - there are film crew everywhere. Lana, out.”

The comm dies out, flickering once, twice, before ending with a hiss. 

Astrals help him, his wedding is going to be broadcasted across the galaxy.

_Could be worse,_ he hears Theron say. _They could be asking for an interview._

Long day, indeed.


End file.
